


I've Been Here The Whole Time

by ComingandGoingByBubble



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: Family, Gen, Little Sabrina, Maternal Zelda is what I live for, Mother-Daughter Relationship, fluff with a whole lotta angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 15:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30091347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ComingandGoingByBubble/pseuds/ComingandGoingByBubble
Summary: Zelda Spellman had never once, since the death of her brother and his wife, fooled herself into believing that she was Sabrina’s mother.Little Sabrina is sick, and Zelda is there to take care of her. Mostly fluff but has a good dose of angst.
Relationships: Sabrina Spellman & Zelda Spellman
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	I've Been Here The Whole Time

**Author's Note:**

> Hello CAOS fandom.
> 
> Have some maternal Zelda because I don't think we got enough of her in the show, and I think we deserved to see interactions between her and little Sabrina, so if I cannot have it in canon, I'll make up my own. 
> 
> I've got more ideas, so be on the lookout for more fics soon!
> 
> Thank you for your support!
> 
> Bubble

I’ve Been Here The Whole Time:

Sabrina had been sick for days. Some blasted mortal illness that had gone rampant throughout the school had caught the youngest Spellman in its clutches and refused to let go. This news didn’t bode well for Zelda, who hadn’t wanted to send Sabrina to that infernal mortal school, but Hilda reminded her that Sabrina only had a limited amount of time in her life to be a mortal and that she should enjoy it to the fullest, but Zelda highly doubted that Sabrina was enjoying it now. 

If she had been homeschooled, as is their custom and what Zelda had wanted to do, she never would have gotten this cold in the first place.

But now, here Sabrina was, seven years old, dressed in her pink fleece pajamas and bundled up under her blankets even though she nearly had a temperature of 101, having now missed four days of school. 

Satan in hell, Zelda was getting worried for her. Her fever seemingly refused to break, and she was coughing so much that it seemed like the household waited on bated breath to see if she would breathe normally again once the coughing fit subsided. 

Hilda had been diligently cooking in the kitchen, for Sabrina loved nothing more than her Aunt Hilda’s soup when she was sick, Ambrose had taken on the mortuary’s clients for the day, which left Zelda to take care of Sabrina. 

For the most part, Sabrina didn’t whine, of which Zelda was infinitely grateful for, seeing as she had made it quite clear that she did not put up with whining of any kind, nor did Sabrina become melodramatic like some children did when infected with an illness, milking out their symptoms to maximize their parents’ annoyance and dismay. 

Sabrina sat up in bed, lying down made her cough terribly, propped up by pillows and surrounded by stuffed animals which she clutched tightly in her arms. Her black headband had been pushed back on her forehead, likely when Zelda was checking her temperature for the umpteenth time, which allowed those blonde ringlets to splay out against the pillows. Her cheeks were red, her nose as well, and she had a box of tissues to the right of her on the bed. 

She sniffled slightly, and brought her numerous stuffed animals closer to her; there were far too many for Zelda to count. The stuffed animals had been collected over the various years (there had been an entire year in which everyone in Sabrina’s friend group had gotten each other various stuffed animals and Zelda had never been so glad to see a trend in society die faster), some had been worn out from constant hugs and sleepless nights, some were practically falling apart, and some still looked new (how Sabrina managed that, she had no idea, the girl was constantly bringing her stuffed animals out into the yard to play pretend, and dragging them through the mud).

Snow fell outside, covering the ground in frost and a light coating of white. The sun was hidden behind the clouds which made it all the more easier for Zelda to draw the curtains in Sabrina’s room and light some candles while she rested. 

She had some spare books on the bed, a few of Sabrina’s favorites and some new ones that she had gotten at the library. Sabrina didn’t seem interested in any of those, and by the way she cradled her stuffed animals, Zelda could tell she was getting tired. 

She had been up all night coughing, of course she was tired. But Sabrina was stubborn too, much like Zelda herself, and she hated nothing more than taking a nap in the middle of the day for it only threw off her sleep schedule. The girl was like clockwork, but Zelda could tell that this illness was taking its toll on her. 

Zelda got up from her position on the ottoman at the end of Sabrina’s bed, her black kimono billowing out as she did so. She gently moved some of the stuffed animals so she could sit on the edge of the bed, close enough to Sabrina so she could check her temperature again.

Placing the back of her hand against Sabrina’s forehead, Zelda frowned almost at the same time as Sabrina did.

Warm. Again. But not as hot as before, Zelda was satisfied enough and she withdrew her hand and her frown, but Sabrina’s frown deepened.

“I don’t want to be sick anymore, Aunt Zee,” she said in a tone that almost verged on whining, but she looked so pitiful that Zelda couldn’t scold her for saying so.

“I know-”

“Can you do a spell to make me feel better? A tea? Anything?”

“Aunt Hilda can make you some tea for your throat, but illnesses take their time, not even magic can make them go away.”

“But I wanna go back to school, I want to see my friends. Why can’t you use your magic to make me feel better?”

“It doesn’t work that way, Sabrina,” Zelda stated simply. 

She wished that she could give Sabrina something to make her feel better. Mortal illnesses were the one thing that witches and warlocks were forbidden to interfere with, for illnesses were the price mortals alike paid for because they worshipped the False God and turned on him in the Garden. The Dark Lord didn’t take kindly to witches and warlocks who interfered with mortal affairs, illnesses or otherwise. But Sabrina was a child, and Zelda had no intentions of explaining such things to her, how terrible and horrible the Dark Lord’s wrath could be when He wanted to be vengeful. 

“I hate being sick, I don’t want to be in bed anymore.” 

Now this was an actual whine, and Zelda was having none of it.

“Well you’re certainly not going downstairs, not when you’re coughing up a lung. And all of that snow wouldn’t help your cough either, so where exactly Sabrina would you like me to put you?”

The little girl frowned for a moment, obviously coming up with no answer that would satisfy her or her Aunt. She stayed silent. Good girl.

“We can bring the television from Ambrose’s room if you’d like,” she offered, knowing that yesterday Sabrina had seemed content to watch The Addams Family with her, and then they had moved onto The Munsters as well. 

“I’ve seen all of the episodes of The Addams Family and the Munsters, Aunt Zee, can’t we get a newer T.V?”

“You know very well that I detest that drabble that counts as entertainment nowadays, Sabrina, and I’m not paying for something that I’m not going to enjoy.” Zelda gave her a pointed look, but then sighed and brushed a piece of hair out of the frame of Sabrina’s flushed face. 

“What did you used to do when you got sick, Auntie?” She cuddled the stuffed animals closer. 

Zelda bit her lip, trying to think. She couldn’t think of a single time that she had ever been well and truly ill in her life, but Hilda had been sick sometimes, nothing serious but enough to put her in bed for a few days. A weak constitution, her father had said. Their mother was too soft on Hilda and that’s why she got ill. Even so, Zelda had still gone in and brought her soup and things to make her smile until she got better. 

“I would lay in bed and do what I was told until I was better,” Zelda lied. 

Sabrina had the gumption to roll her eyes then, and Zelda let out a scoff at that.

“You never stop moving, Aunt Zelda, you’re always doing something, you’re just saying that to get me to stay in bed.”

Sometimes Zelda forgot how smart Sabrina was. She allowed a small smile to grace her face for half a second at the girl’s wit and assumption before she masked it with a frown.

“Even so, you should stay in bed and rest.”

“Can you stay with me?”

Those brown eyes looked at her pleadingly, and Zelda felt her heart melt. 

“Of course, my sweet girl. Of course I will,” she answered and moved so that Sabrina could lay her head on Zelda’s stomach, arms now clutching her instead of the numerous stuffed animals. 

With her back up against the pillows, Zelda settled herself underneath the covers of Sabrina’s sheets, not before kicking her shoes off.

Zelda knew she should be stricter with the girl, that she should be working at the mortuary and having Hilda and Ambrose pop in to see how Sabrina was doing, but Sabrina had asked for her specifically and Zelda couldn’t say no to the girl. 

From her position on the bed, Zelda could see the ever watchful eyes of Vinnie T, placed prominently on the chaise facing the bed, so that he could keep an eye on her while she slept, Sabrina had said. 

She ran small circles into Sabrina’s hair, careful not to get her rings caught in the girl’s hair, and for a brief moment Zelda allowed herself a moment of peace with Sabrina. She hadn’t had much time with her since she had started at the blasted school, not since Sabrina had become a social butterfly and was constantly out making friends and such, and Zelda had missed this. 

She missed the nights when Sabrina would ask to sleep in her bed because of a nightmare, or simply because she wanted to, she missed the afternoons teaching her about magic, simple spells and charms, but the girl caught on quickly and loved to learn. She missed the nights in which Sabrina would fall asleep while they watched a television program, and Zelda would have to carry her up to bed. She missed all of them sitting at the breakfast table for hours, now she was lucky if she could get the girl to sit down for more than five minutes before taking off to school or before going over to a friend’s house. 

Sabrina shifted, curling in tighter to her and Zelda placed her free hand on Sabrina’s back, rubbing circles every time it seemed like the girl would break out into a coughing fit. 

Normally, Zelda would spend this time telling Sabrina stories of her time in Europe, or about Edward, the occasional story about Diana that she could remember, but it seemed like silence was the best option for now. Zelda glanced down to see that Sabrina was already half asleep, eyes fluttering shut although she tried to keep them open. 

After what seemed like no time at all, Zelda could tell that Sabrina was asleep, by her soft, even breathing, and Zelda allowed herself to relax for just a minute. She was asleep. Sleep would hopefully make her feel better and break this fever. 

She didn’t dare move, she was frankly too comfortable to try and move, and it helped that they had spared no expense for Sabrina’s bed. Zelda even felt her own eyes fluttering shut despite her best intentions as the toll of the past few days weighted on her. She hadn’t slept well since Sabrina got sick, and would likely not sleep well until she was sure she was well again. 

It appeared that others had noticed as well, for Zelda had been annoyed at Hilda’s attempts to slip a bit of foxglove into her nightly tea or cup of gin. If she slept then who would take care of Sabrina?

Speaking of the girl, she shifted again, her arms tightening and then loosening around Zelda’s waist as she let out a soft exhale. Zelda was about to fall asleep as well, right then and there, had she not heard the almost inaudible murmur from Sabrina. 

“I love you, Momma.”

At once, Zelda’s nerves were tense, like she had been shocked.

Sleep was no longer an option for her, not even if she wanted to.

Surely she had misheard. Surely this was the fever talking. Sabrina knew good and well that Diana was dead. That particular fact had been impressed upon the girl far too many times for one so young, every Mother’s Day that came around, every birthday, every other frivolous holiday that mortals insisted on celebrating always reminded Sabrina of how she had lost her mother and father. 

Her fingers stiffened in Sabrina’s hair, and when the girl said nothing else, Zelda couldn’t bring herself to relax.

She was not Sabrina’s mother. She could never be Sabrina’s mother. That role belonged to Diana and Diana alone, and no matter how hard Zelda tried, no matter what she wanted or wished for, Zelda would never be her mother. 

As far as relations went, Zelda was only a sister of Sabrina’s father. An Aunt. Someone that normally Sabrina would only see occasionally, not live with, someone that would come around for birthdays and holidays and give expensive and impressive gifts and then leave. Zelda was sure of it, had it not been for what happened with Edward and Diana that she would still be in Europe, if Edward had not secured the role of High Priest, that she would be off in Europe, as far away from Greendale as possible.

But that was not how things turned out. 

Instead of living with her father and mother, Sabrina was resigned to living with her Aunt Zelda, Aunt Hilda, and her cousin, Ambrose. 

Surely that almost inaudible admission had been the work of the fever, had been the manifestation of Sabrina being sick for four days running. Perhaps the girl was hallucinating. Thinking that Zelda’s form was actually Diana’s, in a way that only children’s dreams could do. She had been so sick, Zelda wouldn’t put it past her brain to come up with a silly little thing like that now, anything to provide her with some comfort. 

Sabrina’s hand twitched on her side, and Zelda held her breath, waiting. Waiting for the obvious signs of a hallucination, or even a nightmare from the girl, but there was nothing. 

A few tears fell from her eyes onto her kimono and Sabrina’s hand, and when Zelda moved her hand from Sabrina’s back to wipe away at the tears on Sabrina’s half closed first, the girl reached out and clasped her fingers around Zelda’s tightly.

That nearly did her in once more, but Zelda resolved herself not to cry again. Not now. 

Still, with Sabrina’s hand in hers, Zelda couldn’t help but reflect on the rather cold relationship she’d had with children throughout her life. Zelda had spent most of her life interacting with them at a distance. 

She had hated Hilda for years, thrown herself into her studies instead of playing with her baby sister, but when it came down to it, Zelda had been there for Hilda. Just not as frequently as Hilda wanted or needed. 

She hadn’t bothered to make many friends at the Academy, she found the girls her age to be obnoxious and not nearly as serious as she had been. 

She had settled into a comfortable relationship with herself and the way she interacted in the world during her travels in Europe, and it was then that she had taken up midwifery. She was good at it. Good under pressure, she kept a calm head, and she did not falter when things looked dire. It helped that she had never lost a babe. Unfortunately she had lost mothers, not that she could have done anything differently if she had wanted to, childbirth and the margin for death that came with it was the False God’s jurisdiction, not her’s. 

She thought about possibly having her own children when she was in Paris. A brief thought, and one that left rather quickly once she heard the news that Edward was to become High Priest, and she came back to Greendale. 

She continued the midwifery, but never once thought of having her own children again. She convinced herself that she wouldn’t be good at it. That as a midwife she was only trained to deal with the first moment’s of a child’s life, that tiny little window that it was, and that anything more than that she would be in uncharted territory, and Zelda never liked to not have her bearings.

She helped Edward at the Academy and convinced herself that molding students’ minds was enough for her, that it would satisfy her. It wasn’t, but she never said anything.

And then came along Diana, and the whole mess that had transpired in those few short months. 

She had been there during Sabrina’s birth, as had Hilda, and she had tried to keep a degree of separation between herself and Sabrina but Zelda found herself becoming fiercely protective of a child that wasn’t even of her own womb. She couldn’t help it, Sabrina was her brother’s child, of course she loved her and wanted to protect her. 

Zelda Spellman had never once, since the death of her brother and his wife, fooled herself into believing that she was Sabrina’s mother. She knew that that line was not to be crossed, not by herself or Hilda, or any other mother figure that may present themselves in Sabrina’s life. 

But sometimes, stupidly and selfishly, she hoped that Sabrina would come to see her as a mother… a mother figure at the least. Satan knew she acted like a mother towards the girl, Hilda was constantly reminding her of her blood pressure whenever she fretted over her.

Sabrina moved then, her legs stretching out slightly against the sheets, and Zelda brought herself out of her reverie. She glanced over at the clock, it had been nearly an hour since Sabrina had first fallen asleep. She glanced down in the dim afternoon light, and saw that Sabrina was still holding her hand while she slept, and her heart lurched again.

Pressing a kiss to her curls, Zelda stayed by her side until the next morning, when Sabrina woke up and felt much better, to Zelda and everyone else’s relief. The fever had finally broken.

Sabrina made no mention of the comment to Zelda or anyone else in the house, and so Zelda set aside the painful reminder that she was not Sabrina's mother once more and carried on with her work.

It had been the fever talking, a little girl’s wishful hallucination. 

No, Sabrina did not think of her as a mother, and never would.


End file.
